Thank God I'm a Girl
by rocky
Summary: Ginny reflects on her relationships with her various brothers.


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Disclaimer: I do not own Bill, Charlie, Percy, Fred, George, Ron, Ginny, Mr. Weasley, Mrs. Weasley, Harry, Hermione, or anyone and anything else mentioned in the story. Phew.

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Thank God I'm a Girl

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Ron watches me closely as I try to figure out which piece to move now. I hate it when he does this. It's extremely unnerving. He just peers at you with those blue eyes, _knowing_ that his chess knowledge is superior to yours. I can almost see his eyes laughing with merriment.

I move a pawn forward one space. A safe move. Ron scowls. He hates safe moves. I try to hold in my laughter. I know just how to irk my brothers.

But of course, why shouldn't I? I've known them my whole life. I've had to share living quarters with them my whole life. And trust me, sharing a washroom with six boys is _not_ a pleasant experience. I get shivers just thinking about it.

"Come on, Ginny, you going to move?" I jump slightly as Ron startles me out of my daze. Apparently, he's moved. I can't tell where. I never have quite enough attention for chess. 

I make my move, and Ron grins triumphantly. "Checkmate," he says, moving his bishop. His pieces start a victory dance on the board.

"Good game, Gin. Maybe one of these days you'll get me." He really does have a devious grin.

"You just wait, Ron," I say, with a grin matching his own.

Ron opens his mouth, I'm sure about ready to make some witty comeback, when Mum's voice rips through the air.

"Ron! Ginny! Dinner!"

Ron jumps up as if springs were attached to his feet. He's out the door before I'm even up. I will never understand boys' obsessions with food. I hurry down the stairs, knowing if I don't get down there quickly I will get no food at all. Six brothers teach you to fend for yourself.

I'm practically bowled over as two identical blurs whiz past me. "Out of the way, Gin!" one of them shouts. I roll my eyes. Boys.

Summer holidays are almost over. Only two more weeks to go. It makes me excited but sad at the same time. As annoying as a large family can be, I love them to pieces.

"Gin!" I look up as I enter the kitchen. "Got a seat for ya right here." Bill smiles up at me. I smile back. He and Charlie always try to come back at the same time during the holidays. This year, they succeeded. One big happy family again. One big squished family again.

I sit down in the chair Bill offers me. Bill and I have never really had a brother/sister relationship. It's more of an uncle/niece relationship. After all, he is _thirteen_ years older than me. He was a third year at Hogwarts when I was born. He could've cast spells on me if he wanted to. Levitated me, or turned me into a bug, or something. He was a smart kid.

But I know Bill would never do anything like that. Bill has always been kind to me. Ever since I can remember. He used to come back from Hogwarts for the Christmas holidays, and he would bring me candy from Hogsmeade. Mum never liked like that. So he always told me to hide it from her. It felt good, having a secret with my oldest brother.

I think Bill feels guilty or something, because he never spent time with me when I was little. Well, not like that was his fault of anything. He was off at school. Not like he could Apparate home or anything. I've never blamed him for anything. I wish he wouldn't. Still though, the guilt trip is sometimes nice. He always brings me back exotic things from Egypt.

"Ron," Mum says, sitting down at the table across from Percy, "when are we picking up Harry?" 

"Two days, Mum. He said the Muggles will be to London on Sunday."

Harry. My heart skips a beat at the very mention of his name. Pathetic, I know. I can't help it. I suppose it used to be just a school girl crush. But now, four years after I first saw him, it seems something more. Still though, not like Harry would ever notice. We've become better friends over the years, but…frankly, that boy can be a little thick in the head sometimes. I suppose all boys are. Besides, if a boy ever touched me I think Ron would maul him. Even if that boy _were_ his best friend. Ron can be a little protective of his baby sister.

"Oh, that's lovely, dear," Mum says. I grin at her. I know _Mum_ wouldn't mind if Harry noticed me in _that_ way.

"Hermione's coming then, too," Ron adds, his ears turning a brilliant shade of pink as he shovels potatos into his mouth. I hide a smile. Dear, sweet, thick-headed Ron. I think he's finally catching on. 

"Father." I look over at Percy. He's puffing his chest out. That's always a bad sign. "You'll be happy to hear that Jacobson and I were able to get together those reports on Fizzing Whizbees today. According to our theory, the Levitating device used in them could cause harmful side effects in children under the age of three, and—"

"Like what?" George says, spinning his fork on the table.

This throws Percy off. "Well—that hasn't been made clear yet, but we know that—"

"Oh, shove it, Weatherby," Fred mumbles. Everyone stifles a giggle except for Mum and Percy.

Poor Percy. The twins tease him mercilessly. But he just takes it in stride. I think he knows that he's more than that. Because he is. Percy has always been the really ambitious one in the family. Whether it was building blocks or a report on cauldron bottoms, Percy goes into things head on. He focuses solely on them until they're done. Which is great for Percy. He'll go far in life like that. But it does make relationships with family a little strained.

I glance over at him. Percy's always been good to me. Perhaps too good, if that's possible. He was five when I was born, and he's watched over me like a hawk ever since. Always checking up on me, always making sure I was all right. I think at first he did it because he was sure the twins would get at me. Now it's just instinct. It's nice, I suppose. But one does need breathing space.

"Percy, dear," says Mum, trying to bring the dinner conversation back to a nice comfort level, "how's Penelope?"

I see my brothers hiding grins. We _all_ know what Mum's hinting at. She's been hinting at it for months now. She would just _love_ to have another daughter in the family.

Percy's the only one who doesn't seem to be taking the hint. "She's fine, Mother. She just accepted a job at the Ministry."

"You two'll be working on cauldron bottoms in your office then, will you?" Fred mutters under his breath. George nearly chokes on his milk.

"Fred," hisses Charlie, with a side glance at me. 

I feel my Weasley temper flash momentarily before I stuff it back down. Bloody Charlie. He refuses to think of me as anything but a little girl in pigtails with skinned knees and frilly socks. Of course, I was six years old when he went off to Romania. And he hasn't exactly spent a lot of time at home after that. But still, can't he _see_ I'm not a little girl anymore? 

Charlie always spent time with me when I was little. He'd play games with me, read books to me, even change my diapers if Mum asked. He adored me. That adoration has never worn off. But it hasn't grown either. He doesn't think of me as a fourth year girl. He'd probably go into cardiac arrest if I told him I wear a bra. 

"Why do we put up with them, eh, Ginny?" Charlie nods at the twins and grins at me. 

I smile back as I feel my anger melt away. No one can stay mad at Charlie for long. I think it has to do with the Weasley grin. He means well. I know he does. All my brothers do. I try to keep that in mind. After all, it's not _their _fault they're bloody boys. 

"Because we're the entertainment around here, that's why!" says George, stabbing his meat viciously. 

"Right." Fred nods in agreement. "If it weren't for us you'd have to sit around and hear Percy talk about cauldron bottoms."

The twins. Fred 'n George, George 'n Fred. Or Forge and Gred, as they so often jokingly refer to themselves as. The smiles never seem to fade from their identical freckled faces. I look at them from across the table, Fred attempting to stuff a table up George's nose before Mum finds out. They really are _identical_. Even the freckles splattering their faces are the same. _Mum_ gets them mixed up, for Merlin's sake.

But I can always tell the difference. Fred has always been the more exuberant of the two, if that's possible. He was the one who told me there was gold down a garden gnome hole when we were little. Fred's the one who comes up with a zany plan; he doesn't think of the consequences. George, although just as extroverted as Fred, is more thoughtful. He was the one who pulled my head out of the garden gnome hole. He's the one who thinks about the consequences of a prank, then quickly dismisses them.

Fred and George have always been the stereotypical brothers for me. They're always there, willing to tease, pester, and heckle me. Always there when I need cheering up. They've grown up with me. They were the ones putting bugs in my diapers when they were three years old. They realize I'm not a child anymore. And normally, they don't treat me as one. But of course, even the twins have their protective moments. They are still my brothers. 

Fred gives up with sticking the carrot up George's nose and chucks it at Ron instead. It whizzes right past his ear.

"FRED!" Mum barks. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Testing the aerodynamics of our dinner, Mum."

"It's for a school project," George chimes in.

Mum eyes the two of them suspiciously and then turns towards Ron, smiling sweetly. "You all right, dear?"

Ron rolls his eyes. "Fine, Mum." I catch his eye and we share a smile.

Ron has never really been a brother. He's been a friend. I mean, sure, we have our squabbles. We annoy each other. But friends do that to each other, too.

There's only a years difference between Ron and me. That's made us close. Whenever he wanted someone to fly on his toy broomstick with him, I was there. Whenever I wanted someone to play house with me, he was there. Of course, Ron would skin me alive if I ever told anyone _he_ played house. Ron can be a little self-conscious at times. 

There's only one problem with my relationship with Ron. Since we're so close, he's _extremely_ protective of me. More so than the rest of my brothers combined. The look on his face when I told him I was going to the Yule Ball with Neville…I had to assure him later on that we were only going as _friends_. Yes, that's right, Ron. F-R-I-E-N-D-S. Like you and Hermione. Oh, wait, that's not right?…poor Ron, it's so easy to tease him. 

Charlie's loud squawk interrupts my thoughts. Turning towards him, I discover a giant canary in his place.

"FRED! GEORGE!" Mum roars as Charlie begins to molt back. Bill and Ron are laughing uproariously, and Percy and Dad are trying to hide smiles from Mum. Knowing I won't be able to hide my smile for long, I quickly excuse myself and hurry upstairs.

Two blurs go zooming past me, quickly followed by a shouting Charlie who's still pulling yellow feathers out of his hair. I'm pushed to the side of the stairwell as Bill and Ron rush after him, both probably eager to see the fate of the twins. Downstairs I can hear Percy finally succumbing to laughter.

I shake my head, grinning. My brothers. I love them all. But thank God I'm a girl.


End file.
